


i’m holding my breath (for you)

by sixhours



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Awkward Crush, Dialogue Heavy, M/M, Slight Internalised Homophobia, Trauma, tommy actually Working On Himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixhours/pseuds/sixhours
Summary: It’s a slow burning kind of feeling, not harsh or fast or crashing. It’s the comfort at the thought, the idea of being held in such a way where Tommy is almost considered delicate.
Relationships: Ranboo/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109





	i’m holding my breath (for you)

**Author's Note:**

> ayup @boyfsimp on twitter innit  
> this is bad i think  
> also don’t show this to them or anyone not comfortable with this content you know the drill

“So what’s up with this new guy, anyway?” Tommy exclaims, loud and clear as the tall figure— _Ranboo_ , Tommy involuntarily remembers—walks around aimlessly and kicks the dirt at his feet when Tubbo replies to whatever dumb thing he’s said. They’re too far away for anyone to listen in on their conversation. Tommy bets they’re talking about something fucking stupid. “He’s, as you’d say, _sus._ Am I right, fellas?”

“When have literally _either_ of us used the term sus?” Techno says, raising an eyebrow. Monotone as ever. Ghostbur only nods in response, picking at the grass next to his feet as he sits cross-legged. Ironically, Phil’s gonna kill him for the mud on his trousers later. Sometimes Tommy wonders how he ended up with such shit family members.

“You guys are so fucking stupid. Are you _blind?_ He’s clearly up to something. And nobody even cares. This is why we get betrayed.”

Tommy’s sitting up now, watching closer. He’d brought binoculars just in case they were too far away but they never came in handy, so he shoves them to the side and hides in the grass, his head help up by his hands. Techno puts whatever weird erotic book he was reading down and shoves him, hard. He lets out a screech.

“Techno!” Tommy gasps, his back flat against the grass, completely still. “We’re going to get caught!”

“ _You’re_ going to get caught.” Techno bites, cold. “I’m not involved in any of this weird—I don’t know—stalking. And if you didn’t want to be shoved you shouldn’t have pushed your binoculars in my face.”

Tommy feels his ears heat up involuntarily, and he stands quickly. Dusting the dry mud from his trousers, Tommy glances over only to make direct eye contact with both Tubbo and Ranboo. He’s never looked away so fast in his life.

“Fuck off,” Tommy spits, a little bit of malice. Ghostbur’s smiling up at him, a strange look on his face. “He’s going to kill you all and—and _I’ll_ get to tell you all I was right.”

“Sure,” Techno says. He even has the audacity not to look up. “Whatever you say.”

-

Tommy wouldn’t say he’s a caring person.

Sure, he’d risk his life for Wilbur, for Tubbo, but that was _before_ the war. He learnt the hard way that dying for a country doomed to fall was pointless and only gained you another lost life. If anything, trauma makes you weaker. He doesn’t get the bullshit people in L’manberg said. He doesn’t feel stronger, or better, he’s just tired.

So he tends to the cows around the SMP (pointedly ignoring any that stray too close to the prison) and pretends he’s not thinking about Henry, feeds them too much hay and grosses himself out with the milking just to make cake. It’s a distraction, and the smell reminds him of bakeries and flowers and love turned rotten and burning trees and—

Tommy doesn’t _mean_ to come across Ranboo’s farm, it kind of just—happens. And who’s to blame the gasp and sprint toward it that follows? Tommy may not be a caring person, but he fucking loves cows.

_Voomp._

Tommy _shrieks._ “What the hell is wrong with you? Stupid fucking mob-human. Jesus Christ, I didn’t know you could teleport.”

Ranboo tilts his head in a weirdly annoying, catlike manner. “Me neither.” Pause. “What—um, what are you doing, exactly?”

A tuft of too-long blonde hair shoots around to finish his job, patching the snowy area up to make for more space in the cow pen and hold the fences steady. “The fuck’s it look like,” he spits, pulling himself up to wipe sweat off of his forehead and briefly examine his torn up clothing. “I’m fixing your stupid pen.”

“Why? It was fine!”

“No it wasn’t, bitch! They were stuck together!”

“What does it matter?”

“Wh— _what does it matter?_ ” Tommy almost screams. “They’re cows! Not—not—I don’t know! Monsters!”

There’s a stunned silence and Tommy stands in the melting snow, feeling hot under Ranboo’s gaze, although eye contact is never made. He doesn’t like people who read him openly. At least Techno has the decency to do it subtlety. He picks up his axe and throws it over his shoulder with a grunt. “See you around, weirdo,” he settles for.

He’s only got a couple of blocks before he hears his name.

“Wait!”

Tommy doesn’t expect to see Ranboo standing there still, tail swishing in a weird motion as they stare at each other. Tommy’s a little tired of feeling his ears burn today. “Don’t you need winter clothes?”

“I’m not a fucking charity case, bitch. I steal my own stuff. Plus, I don’t hang around with your kind.”

He only feels a little bad as he walks home. 

Which is funny, ‘cause usually he wouldn’t feel bad at all.

-

It’s a slow burning kind of feeling, not harsh or fast or crashing. It’s the comfort at the thought, the idea of being held in such a way where Tommy is almost considered delicate.

It makes him _sick._

When Techno asks him why he’s being more of a bastard than usual, he flips him the bird.

-

The enderman was much, much taller than him. It was one of the hardest creatures to defeat when you didn’t have any equipment, and Tommy had been stuck with iron throughout all of exile. He would’ve been fine if Techno hadn’t went through his chests and taken the stolen material back.

“Fuck,” he grunts, to no one in particular. A part of him glows red, but he’s mostly blue. The gleam in the enderman’s eyes makes him retch.

He raises his bloodied fist, only to lower it again. His throws his hands to the air, like an offering.

“Fuck!”

-

A heat begins to grow, stronger than ever, and it’s fucking scary.

Tommy’s pretty sure he hates this dude, like _truly_ despises him. He hasn’t felt this strongly about someone since Dream. He lays on his side and squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring the images of Ranboo and Tubbo holding hands in his head. He tells them to fuck off.

Instead of wallowing, however, he channels his anger into training. It’s not like he feels like he needs much of it, but he’s bored, and he needs to feel like he’ll be ready for anything before he overthinks again.

Ghostbur is too nice, Techno too aggressive. Tommy isn’t in the best of moods with any of the SMP, so he turns to himself. Hours of fighting trees in the forest isn’t fun, but it’s the best he can do.

One particular day, he’s feeling racier than ever, blood pumping after Ranboo tried to speak with him again. He slashes the tree with his sword, letting out harsh breaths with no technique. He’s too loud to hear the rustling near him, and his ears only hear static, anyway.

Everything comes back into motion when Ranboo puts a slow, hesitant hand on his shoulder. Tommy pulls back, whips around with the sword held up, panting.

“Woah, woah!” Ranboo stands back, and Tommys eyes lock on the hand that hovers over the axe tied to his side. _F_ _uck._ “I’m not gonna hurt you, I was just—”

Tommy holds the sword up further, pressing a little too hard, testing the limits. He leaves it on Ranboo’s Adam’s apple and watches at it bobs—a sadistic grin easing its way onto his face. He almost cackles at the sight. Instead, he growls. “Hurt me, bitch.”

Ranboos axe coming to upturn his weapon was a little surprising, but Tommy didn’t fight a billion wars and then some for nothing. He reacts fast and they clash, grunting lowly as the sound pierced both of their ears.

“Fucking pussy,” Tommy laughs. He’s high on adrenaline, doesn’t really feel human. He pushes as hard as he can until he gains a slight upper hand, backing Ranboo away. “You act like this with Tubs, huh? He push you around? You take it?”

Ranboo makes a strange ender-noise, pushing back. “What are you implying?”

“If you took it that way you know what the fuck I’m saying.” Tommy says. He’s grinning, full fangs on display, and he looks downright _insane._ He fights on, though he feels a shooting pain from his hands down to his back. He’s got Ranboo pushed against a tree, now, and he feels invincible. “Is that my answer, then? Does Ranboo take it up the fucking ass like a—”

Tommy throws his sword forward to Ranboo, full force, with the intent to make sure he took a life. He underestimated the hybrid, being a Goddamn _hybrid_ and all that, until suddenly he hears a _vump_ and Ranboo is gone, and his stupid sword is stuck in the tree. “Son of a—” he gasps, blood running cold as he senses eyes on him. He slips as he turns, falling into the fresh snow and dirt. Ranboo’s eyes burn into him.

Suddenly, there’s an axe making him stare up, and Ranboo doesn’t look away this time. His tail swings like crazy. For a moment all they hear is panting.

“What’s your problem?”

Tommy cant stop staring. “Huh?” The axe is gone now, dropped to the ground with a clatter. He feels like he can breathe again.

“Why do you hate me? What did I do? Is... is it Tubbo?”

It takes him a moment to come to reality. “Wh—what? No! I... you’re just...”

The tail is slower, calmer, now. Tommy wants to feel the silky fur under his fingertips. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know _what_ he wants. So, he swallows a lump in his throat and looks away.

“Just...?”

“I don’t—” he doesn’t mean for his voice to crack the way it does. For him to be this vulnerable in the woods, with a fucking enderboy. And, yet. “I needed a distraction.”

“What?”

“When Dream left, I just... I had to feel ready, Ranboo, and. He was. _Fuck._ ”

“Are you crying?”

“Fuck off!” He shouts, but it comes out shaky. He stands up and pulls the sword out of his tree with difficultly. “Fuck you and your stupid teleportation, and. And your name is stupid too. Ran _boob._ ”

“That isn’t even funny.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Alright.” Is all Ranboo says. He doesn’t even call him back.

-

“You should talk to him.”

“Ughhhhhh,” Tommy groans, rolling over in the grass, heart on his sleeve for Tubbo. He cringes at the stern look he gets in response. “That’s embarrassing, though.”

“You wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t try to kill him!”

“I’m talking to Ghostbur if you’re gonna be like this.”

“You know he’ll say the same thing,” Tubbo sighs, dropping his basket of apples next to him and pulls Tommy’s head onto his lap. It makes him think of Wilbur. He runs his hands through his hair, soft and gentle. “I love you, Tommy. You’re an idiot.”

“Hey!” Tommy’s eyes snap open, but he doesn’t move his head. He wonders what Ranboo’s hair would feel like between his fingers. There’s really only one way to know.

“I have to talk to him.”

When Tubbo snorts Tommy pushes the basket over in swift retaliation, he’s smiling, too.

-

Ranboo’s sitting under one of the trees near L’manberg, writing frantically in the little notepad he carries everywhere. Tommy lets himself be endeared for a moment before he steps over, casting a shadow. For once, he’s taller. The bigger man.

Ranboo squints up at him, snapping the book closed. “Tommy?”

And, well, Tommy’s never been too good at this sort of thing, so he scratches the back of his head with his left arm and uses the other to show the single flower in his hand. He looks around like he doesn’t care, but he knows the flush in his cheeks gives him away.

An offering.

“For me?” Ranboo says, and he sounds surprised, it’s kind of cute, almost, and _fuck, Tommy is in love._ The smile on his face is genuine it it almost breaks Tommy entirely. “Allium, I’ve always liked those.” Tommy stops himself from spilling out that he knows because he sees him sitting in the fields, surrounded by them, alone.

Ranboo pats the spot on the tree next to him.

Progress, Tommy thinks. Fucking progress.


End file.
